


moth to a flame

by cloudydaydyke



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Compulsory Heterosexuality, F/F, Florist AU, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, adora is a florist and the keystone in catra discovering she is a lesbian, catra is suffering from comphet, scorpia is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudydaydyke/pseuds/cloudydaydyke
Summary: “Here, let me help you!” laughed a light voice. Catra saw the young blonde woman from the storefront reaching to take the other basket and was caught off guard by the young woman’s eyes. They were light blue and clear, like the fresh reveal of blue sky after a storm. Her gaze radiated warmth. For some reason, Catra suddenly found it harder to breathe.“Thank you, uh-- A-Adora,” Catra stammered, breaking her stare to read the florist’s embroidered name tag. Adora gave a wide grin in response. Catra felt like she had been doused in ice water, and bit back the urge to gasp for air.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Catra is a grad student, struggling under the weight of compulsive heterosexuality. Adora works as a florist at her mother's shop. A story of lesbian identity, discovering the truth about oneself, and finding genuine love despite past trauma.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 250





	1. purple lilacs

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii! i'm so excited for this story!  
> before we get started: 
> 
> 1) catra and adora are CANONICALLY LESBIANS. that is no different here.  
> 2) many lesbians suffer from compulsive heterosexuality, which is when LGBTQ+ people think we must be in straight relationships bc society tells us that is our only option, before discovering our LGBTQ+ identity. i am NOT saying catra is straight/bi/pan because she is written as being in a relationship with a man. she is a LESBIAN, dealing with COMPHET.  
> 3) i am a lesbian and some of this is based on my experiences. if you have experienced comphet in a different way, you're VALID!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this modern/florist/university AU mashup! i'm hoping for several small chapters, so keep an eye out for new updates! <3

Catra wasn’t having a very good day. And Scorpia, who was driving their car down the highway with nauseating abandon, wasn’t making it any better. 

“Ugh, I’m just so nervous the event tomorrow isn’t going to go well,” Scorpia repeated for the third time, her brow stuck in a furrow. Wheeling around in her seat, she looked at Catra with panic in her eyes. “What if my speech doesn’t go well? What if the jokes don’t land? What if—” 

“ _ROAD_ , Scorpia please watch the road—oh god, I can’t look,” Catra groaned through gritted teeth, burying her face in her hands as Scorpia swerved wildly out of the way of an oncoming truck, its horn blaring in outrage. 

“Sorry,” Scorpia said with an embarrassed laugh. “That was a close one.” 

Catra sighed, peeling her hands away from her eyes only to brace herself against the side of the car as they screeched into a left turn. “Who in the world gave you a license?” she complained, clutching the door handle to keep herself from slamming sideways. “Scorpia, you’re going to be fine. Our department has planned the banquet to the letter, and you’re a very skilled public speaker. I’m sure they will be very impressed by the-” 

She stopped short when a familiar ringtone, Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream”, began playing loudly. She pulled her ringing phone out of her blazer. A man’s face stared back at her, smiling from within the screen. A pang of emotion resonated in her chest, but she shoved the feelings away. Her fingers hovered over the answer button, but instead hit ignore and quickly stuffed the phone back deep into her pocket. 

“Do you need to get that?” asked Scorpia, sneaking a glance to where Catra sat, now looking out the window. Catra sighed again, but this time it wasn’t out of exasperation at Scorpia’s dizzying driving. She shook her head and turned back to her friend. 

“No, it’s just— _brake, brake, brake, Scorpia!_ ”

Scorpia slammed the brakes and the little car shuddered to a halt before slamming into the curb, haphazardly taking up two parking spots in front of their destination, a downtown florist shop. Catra, after releasing her death grip on the armrests, looked Scorpia in the eyes with a deadly serious expression.

“When we’re going back, I’m driving.” 

They stared at each other for a silent moment, then Scorpia burst into laughter. Her mirth was infectious, and Catra cracked a wry grin.  
“Let’s go get these goddamned flowers that I just risked life and limb for,” she said, stepping out of the car into the busy market square. 

~ 

The twinkling chime of a bell above the door welcomed the pair into the cozy flower shop. Scorpia rushed to the front counter where a young blonde woman in a red bandanna was trimming daffodil stems, but Catra wheeled around slowly on the heels of her black boots, enjoying the feeling of dark hardwood under her feet as she took in the sights – and smells – of the shop. 

There were a couple other customers milling about, discussing corsages in hushed tones with an older woman at one side counter. Bright light streamed in through the display windows, blocked slightly by enormous bouquets of purple lilacs, daisies, and more daffodils. Catra made her way to the window display and touched the sheer ribbon binding one of the bouquets. She hadn’t ever thought she was one for flowers until she had received a delivery of roses on her birthday several months ago. It had been sweet then, but now the memory brought forth a headache.

Her thoughts were interrupted by commotion behind her. She turned to see Scorpia trying to carry four baskets of flower centerpieces to the checkout counter at once, laughing and tipping slightly sideways with the effort. Rolling her eyes, Catra strolled over to help. 

“Scorpia, Jesus—you can take more than one trip, you know.” Catra raised an eyebrow, grabbing a flower basket from Scorpia’s arms. 

“Here, let me help you!” laughed a light voice, and Catra saw the young blonde woman from the storefront reaching to take the other basket from Scorpia. Catra caught her gaze and was caught off guard by the young woman’s eyes. They were light blue and clear, like the fresh reveal of blue sky after a storm. Her gaze radiated warmth, crinkling at the corners of her eyes with a striking, open smile. For some reason, Catra suddenly found it harder to breathe. 

“Thank you, uh-- A-Adora,” Catra stammered, breaking her stare to read the florist’s embroidered name tag. Adora gave a wide grin in response. Catra felt like she had been doused in ice water, and bit back the urge to gasp for air. 

“Catra, aren’t these _perfect!_ I think they’re going to look incredible in the banquet hall. Maybe we can set them up next to the electric candles to make them glow. I want it to look majestic! Well, as majestic as a convention for academics can look.” Scorpia beamed with happiness as the three of them walked up to the checkout counter. It was good to see her excited instead of brimming with the nervous energy she’d harbored for the past week. She helped Scorpia lift the floral centerpieces onto the counter, being careful not to damage their fragile petals. 

“What’s the event?” asked the florist shop clerk Adora, typing on her vintage looking cash register. 

“It’s a 2-day convention at Bright Moon University for English departments around the region, like professional development and seminars for professors. Catra and I are in charge of running the banquet to welcome everyone for the event.” 

Scorpia chatted excitedly, but Catra wasn’t listening. She had turned away from the counter in an attempt to look everywhere else except at Adora. Every time Catra looked at her, her stomach started to somersault, but she didn’t understand it. Maybe her insides were still reeling from Scorpia’s catastrophic driving. 

“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Scorpia!” said Adora as she slipped their receipt into one of the baskets of flowers. “And you, Catra.” 

Catra’s head whipped around at the sound of her name. Adora was smiling with her warm smile. A strand of her blonde hair had come out from her bandana and was in her eyes slightly, and Catra had the urge to tuck it back into her bandana for her. The thought sent a flush of blood surging into her cheeks. 

“Uh, yes, thank you,” she mumbled distractedly. She smiled quickly at Adora, not meeting her eyes, then scooped two of the baskets from the counter and started towards the door.

“Come on Scorpia, we have to go back to BMU,” she called, not daring to look backwards to the counter.

They made their way toward the door, but Adora jogged to the front of the store and opened the door for them. She met Catra’s eyes again, and they sparkled in the sunlight from the outside. “Have a good day!” Adora said cheerfully, seeming to not notice the dumbfounded expression on Catra’s face. She forced out what was supposed to be “Thank you” but sounded like “Th- uuuuuuhh”. Completely flustered and incredibly confused, she ducked out of the store’s threshold and practically ran down the sidewalk without looking back to see if Scorpia was following, clutching the flower baskets for dear life. 

~

Back in the car, Catra drove down the highway clutching the wheel so hard her knuckles went white. Her thoughts were swirling. After a few minutes of terse silence, Scorpia nudged her with her elbow.  
“Wildcat, what’s wrong? You seem like something is bothering you.” The childhood nickname usually made her smile, but Catra wasn’t moved this time. 

“Nothing. I don’t know. Whatever.” She clenched her jaw, avoiding Scorpia’s concerned gaze, but then let out a short, terse breath. She began talking, forcing the whirlwind of thoughts to settle into coherency like she’d practiced with her therapist. “School’s sapping my life away. I feel like this degree process is never going to end.” Scorpia nodded knowingly but didn’t say anything. She must have sensed that there was more that wasn’t being said. Catra took another short breath and steeled herself. 

“Things aren’t great with Marcus, Scorpia. I don’t know. He’s... great, I guess. He’s kind, there’s nothing wrong—” She shook her head harshly, tossing her curly bangs out of her eyes. “I don’t know, Scorpia. He wants to take things further, and I don’t know why I wouldn’t want that. But I don’t, and it’s making me stomach sick.” She gritted her teeth, flashing back to his hand on her arm, asking her to move in with him. Nausea flooded her now like it had that day, pushing him away and muttering excuses. “I’ve found myself trying to avoid being around him, almost for two months now. And then at the flower shop, that girl-” 

Right on cue, her phone buzzed and began blaring Katy Perry. Catra smacked the wheel and groaned, the effort leaving her palm stinging. An inside joke between her and Marcus had prompted them, giggling uncontrollably, to make the song their ring tone for each other once. Now, Catra couldn’t even remember the joke, rendering the familiar pop anthem insufferable. At the thought of Marcus’ laughter, the flower shop girl’s laughter floated unbidden into her mind, a soft and buttery sound. 

Suddenly, it was impossible to breathe. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under a two-ton weight, forcing out any air left in her lungs. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she wasn’t sure why. She just needed that phone to stop ringing, needed it immediately. She began wrestling with her blazer pocket with one hand as she drove, trying to silence the phone desperately.

“Hey, hey, slow down. I’ve got it.” Scorpia said, her tone worried but gentle. Touching Catra’s hand, which was still blindly ripping at her jacket pocket, she grabbed the phone and clicked ignore, tossing the phone into the console. Catra’s panic subsided, the acid that had bubbled into her throat retreating back into her stomach. Her chest still clenched with anxiety. The panic had seemed to come flooding out of nowhere, as fast and deadly as a lightning strike. Even though the phone was now laying harmlessly in the cupholder, she felt it glaring up at her accusingly. 

_Why won’t you talk to him?_ it seemed to ask with its mocking silence. _Why can’t you commit to him? What are you scared of?_

Scorpia swiveled in her seat to face her completely. “Catra—", she started, but Catra interrupted quickly.

“Scorpia, I’m fine. I’m just stressed out by work and school, and it’s making me overreact. It’s fine, I’m fine. Just forget this ever happened. Okay? Oh look, we’re here.” They had arrived at the Bright Moon University English department building, and Catra couldn’t shake the feeling that she had narrowly sidestepped a bullet. She swung the car into the University parking lot, making Scorpia lurch to the side this time. As the car staggered into a parking spot, she tried to force the image of those blue eyes from her mind, and almost hit the curb. 

~

Later that night, Catra sat on her apartment’s couch cross-legged. Her laptop was perched across her knees precariously as she typed. She was supposed to be working on grading essays for Lance, the energetic English professor she was teacher’s assistant for, but she couldn’t focus. The flowery academic language swam in front of her eyes and stoked her headache back into a fury. She wasn’t dyslexic but she found the students’ analysis impossible to decipher tonight. Giving up, she closed the essay she was failing to read and opened her browser instead. Her last viewed page sprang to life across the glowing screen, and Catra’s stomach felt like she had just careened down a roller coaster. 

“ _Roses for Mara_ ”, the website title read. “ _Flower Bouquets, Locally Hand-Crafted with Love_ ”. 

She had opened the site hours ago to get the flower shop's address so she and Scorpia could pick up their centerpieces, but hadn’t paid much attention to anything except the contact information box. Looking at it now, she studied the site carefully.

Displayed under the title there was a photo of the front of the cheerful florist shop. It featured the older woman Catra had seen earlier with her arm around the girl at the counter. Adora, she remembered with an electric jolt. They were both smiling brightly, and Adora held a bouquet of purple lilacs in her arms, like the ones from the shop display. Catra noted the older woman and Adora shared the same wide smile, the same crinkles around their eyes. They must be family, Catra decided. Maybe her grandmother?

She zoomed in slightly over Adora, paying more attention now than she had dared to in the store. Her blonde hair was like butterscotch, chopped to her shoulders and tied back with the same red bandana she’d had on today. Even through the screen, her blue eyes sparkled with mirth, like the person behind the camera had just shared the world’s best joke and she was barely holding back a tide of her infectious, warm laughter. 

She felt her stomach threaten to drop out from inside her again, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes away from the photo no matter how much her mind protested. There was something about the girl that she felt herself pulled to. Adora felt so familiar, but she was sure she’d never seen her before. Her fascination must be coming from trying to figure out where she recognized her from, Catra decided. However, that still didn’t explain the blush creeping over her freckled cheeks, when Adora had called her name at the store and, well, now, as she studied her photo.

Whatever it was, it was crushing her concentration. She shook her head lightly, trying to force the blush off of her face. Setting the open computer down, she leaned back into the overstuffed couch. Only then did she truly feel her exhaustion settle into her limbs. Between her job as a TA and her rigorous graduate school classes she was running herself ragged. The busy schedule took up every moment of her time, leaving her little time to consider her other concerns.

In a moment of universal dramatic irony, her phone buzzed and blared “Teenage Dream” for the third time that day. 

_Incoming call from: Marcus <3_, the phone displayed. Marcus’ persistent digital smile took up the screen.

“Great,” she muttered. Her headache throbbed behind her eyes with renewed strength, but this time, she answered the call. 

“Hello, Catra?” said Marcus, his voice piqued with concern. 

“Hi, Marcus, yeah, it’s me.” she answered, flopping over heavily onto the couch cushions. She curled up, tucking her knees to her chest and holding the phone loosely to one ear.  
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day, Catra! I was worried. Are you alright?”

“Sorry, yeah… work was busy today. Lance had me running with Scorpia to prep for the convention.” She winced at the words. It wasn’t technically a lie. She had been working, but she knew that wasn’t what was keeping her from answering Marcus’s calls.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad everything is okay. That’s a relief. Can I come see you, maybe now? I miss you.” 

_I miss you_. The phrase stabbed at Catra accusingly, even though there was only graciousness in his tone. Why didn’t she pick up his calls? Why didn’t she miss him? Why did the thought of seeing him overcome her with a sense of dull dread?

She pushed herself onto her elbow, resting her head heavily into her free hand. “Marcus, I’m really tired, and I’ve got this monster headache. I’m sorry. I think I’m just going to go to bed early tonight.” Catra tried to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest. 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” said Marcus, and even across the phone line she felt the disappointment he tried to mask. “I understand. Get some rest, and I’ll come see you tomorrow.”  


“That sounds good. Thanks.” Catra said wearily. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Catra. I love you.” 

The words stuck in her throat. Words that she had once said so easily to him could barely make it out of her mouth without her feeling panicky acid crawl up into her throat again.  
“You too,” she mumbled, and shut off the call without waiting for a response. 

There was too much swirling around in her mind. _I miss you. I love you._ She threw her phone down onto the couch next to her still-open computer, still zoomed in slightly over the image of the blonde, smiling, lilac-holding Adora. 

“Stupid banquet. Stupid boyfriend. Stupid flowers. Stupid blue eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Catra said to herself, her voice ramping up into a full yell without realizing it. Her chest heaved with the effort, leaving her a little winded. 

She folded over her knees, head dropping onto her denim jeans. Her dark curls hung in a curtain around her head, thoughts spinning. She didn’t know what to do about Marcus. She couldn’t avoid him forever. She wasn’t even sure why she was avoiding him at all, but the framework of their relationship was familiar. 

It was an echo of every other relationship she’d been in with men. They showed interest in her, she reciprocated. They flirted for months, flitting back and forth between dates in a weeks-long cat and mouse. She always relented and agreed to a relationship, but then after a month, no matter how good things had been going, Catra always began to feel distant. Anxious. Repulsed, even. Her interest waned, and she broke things off. The cycle seemed inevitable. 

She’d always been confused why she couldn’t maintain a relationship with a man. Her friends told her that she just hadn’t found the right one. Lonnie, another TA, had chatted with her about her own turbulent dating record until she found just the right man that made her want to commit to a relationship. 

“He’s out there, Catra!” Lonnie had assured. “You’ll see.” 

Catra wasn’t so sure. She’d thought Marcus was different, but the story was playing out the same as it always had. Her interest, heightened during the flirting, had all but waned, leaving her feeling uncomfortable with his company. When they were alone together, she felt like her skin was being pricked by needles, making her anxious to run. She hadn’t slept over in weeks, and she could tell he was hurt by it, but his affection made her uncomfortable. His gentle hands on her skin should have felt comforting and pleasurable, but instead it was just… wrong. It was always wrong. 

She sighed deeply, pushing herself up from the couch. She scooped up her laptop, still open on Adora’s face, and walked into the kitchen to pour herself a drink. Soon her body warmed with the biting heat of bourbon over ice. Catra had taken to a small glass of bourbon as her preferred drink. She’d never been a drinker, and still wasn’t, but the dark sweetness and fiery warmth of the liquor was comforting on nights when her mind swam with anxiety. 

It reminded her of Christmastime, sitting around a big table with Scorpia’s large family drinking bourbon-spiked cider from steaming mugs. She had spent Christmas with them since childhood, her own family distant and hateful. Scorpia’s moms were unendingly kind, folding young Catra into their home like she was a second daughter. She’d spent her last year of high school living with them, and now went back to visit on every weekend, birthday, and holiday. Catra was deeply grateful for Scorpia’s friendship and her family’s welcoming warmth after so many years of coldness in her old home.

Her thoughts drifted as she sipped her drink, staring at Adora’s photo displayed on her laptop. She wondered what Adora’s family was like, how they spent their holidays. Did they decorate with the same exuberance as Scorpia’s family? Did their home burst at the seam with cousins and uncles, or did Adora and her grandmother celebrate together alone? Catra was gripped with the urge to know everything about the blonde girl, smiling prettily out at her with her arms full of pale purple blooms. Then she again spiraled into confusion, searching for a reason she was so intrigued by Adora. 

“What is wrong with me today?” she said aloud. She downed the rest of her drink, wincing slightly as it burned her throat, and snapped her laptop closed. Despite the long day and mental exhaustion, she still felt wide awake, wired with an undercurrent of anxiety. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the vision of Adora’s blue eyes from her mind.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some notes on flower symbolism (yes, they are all purposeful! what kind of florist AU would it be if they weren't?)  
> purple lilacs symbolize the first emotions of love  
> daffodils symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings  
> daisies are just cute <3 
> 
> please leave a comment with your thoughts, and some kudos if you enjoyed!!! i'm excited for this story, and i hope you are too. <3
> 
> & feel free to chat with me @cloudydaydyke on tumblr, @edentification on instagram, and @cloudydaydyke on twitter (although i am semi-inactive there right now). 
> 
> next chapter out soon i hope!


	2. peonies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments on chapter one! i love hearing your thoughts and appreciate the support <3

**Adora**

Adora was back at the front counter on Thursday afternoon, trimming flower stems and thinking about the day before. 

Two customers had come to her family’s flower shop Wednesday- _Catra and Scorpia,_ she remembered—and the experience had stuck with her. 

She was still reeling from Catra’s, well, everything. Her dark, bouncy curls and her eyes shining with intelligence and humor, the confident sway of her walk across the hardwood. It took all of her concentration to focus on Scorpia’s order and not simply stare at Catra. 

That was, of course, until Catra had seemed to notice _her._

Adora recalled Catra’s mad dash out of the shop doors with a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly at the memory. The girl had seemed completely flustered as soon as they had made eye contact.  
Adora wondered what she’d done to scare her so badly. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she could understand the familiar hallmarks of anxiety.

She’d dealt with anxiety since she was a child, and it had never been rational or easy. Her heart went out with sympathy to Catra. Luckily, the girl probably didn’t have to worry about a repeat of the experience. Bright Moon was a huge, bustling city and Adora met new people every single day. She doubted they’d ever see each other again.

Even still. 

There was something so intriguing about her, that a small, quiet part of Adora’s mind hoped they _would_ cross paths again. 

Her mom was always telling her that “Everything happens for a reason, whether you like the reason or not.” She’d have to fill her mom in on the strange, beautiful girl that had shaken up her afternoon and see what she thought. 

Thinking of her mother made her chest squeeze like it was being cinched with a belt. “Roses for Mara” had been her grandmother’s flower shop, passed down to her mother, Mara, its namesake. Now Adora worked there too, carrying on the family legacy. 

Adora had practically grown up in the shop’s fragrant sunlit glow. She remembered smelling all the different blooms while her mother held her small toddler hand, pointing out each different type. She thought back the busy preparations of wedding order season, helping her mother cut sheer glittery ribbon and tie stems into elaborate bouquets. 

She could see her mother’s red car, stuffed to the roof with corsage boxes for deliveries on prom night. 

At the memory of that car, she shuddered involuntarily. Hurt, anger and grief stabbed through her like a dull knife, threatening to send her spiraling back into the past. She rubbed her temple, trying to rid her mind of the thoughts. “Nothing good happens of remaining in the past,” her mom constantly had to remind her. 

But she couldn’t help the fury and pain bubbling deep and low in her stomach. The feelings were fresh, stinging like a cut doused in acid. If she had been there, maybe things could have been different. Maybe her mother would have—

“Adora!” came a shout from the other side of the shop, interrupting her thoughts. Adora spun around to see her grandmother holding the phone to one ear and waving at her wildly. “The phone, it’s for you dear!” 

Adora set down the bouquet she was working on and jogged across to her grandmother, curious to who would be calling her at the shop instead of her cellphone.  
“Hello? This is Adora from ‘Roses for Mara’.” 

“Hi Adora!” came a bubbly voice that she faintly recognized. “It’s Scorpia, from Bright Moon University. I was in your shop early picking up some centerpieces?” 

“Oh, hi again Scorpia!” A lightbulb of recognition went off in her mind and Adora beamed. She had taken a quick liking to Scorpia. She seemed to exude an infectious joy. “How can I help you?” 

Scorpia lowered her voice conspiratorially. 

“I was, ah, wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me set up for the banquet tomorrow night? Our decorator bailed last minute, and the centerpieces you put together are _gorgeous,_ I mean _wow,_ you know? So, when our decorator quit on me, after freaking out for, I’ll admit it, a solid thirty minutes, I thought of you! You’d be perfect for getting the hall set up. And you’d be compensated, of course!” 

“I’m flattered, Scorpia! I-”

“Oh, you don’t have to if you’re busy,” Scorpia interrupted hastily. “I know, I know, it’s a big ask. It’s okay! I can handle it! I _got this._ ” Her words sounded strained in that last sentence, as if she was trying to convince herself of her capability more than she was trying to convince Adora. 

Adora laughed into the phone. “Scorpia, relax. I’d be happy to help our biggest customer of the month. The shop closes early tomorrow anyway, since it’s a Friday. What time should I be there?” She tried to sound carefree and at ease, but inside her white work shirt her heart was beginning to beat faster. 

“Gosh, you’re amazing! Thank you so much, wow! Could you do seven? The banquet itself starts at 8, but we’d need you to get there early to set up decorations. If you want to stay for the event, you’re more than welcome to! There’s 20 minutes of intro, 40 minutes for dinner, and 15 minutes of wrap up time. It probably won’t be too interesting to be in a room full of professors and TA’s, but I can assure you a free delicious supper!” 

Adora could sense Scorpia’s excitement through the phone, and she was beginning to feel excited herself. It was in no way a part of her usual job description to set up events for customers. However, she didn’t mind the thought of helping Scorpia. 

_Especially if it means seeing Catra again,_ a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She pushed the thought away but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. 

“Sure, that sounds great. I’ll see you at seven!” 

After a brief goodbye, she hung up the phone. Her small smile broadened into a grin, and her grandmother looked at her curiously. She turned around quickly, heading back to her work before her grandmother could ask any questions. If she had asked why she was so happy all the sudden, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. 

~

“What is this event again?” asked Glimmer, bouncing on the edge of Adora’s bed. Adora held a summery frock up to her half-dressed reflection, and then shook her head at herself in distaste. That was clearly _not_ working. 

“It’s a welcome banquet for a convention at Bright Moon University, the one I prepared all those centerpieces for last week.” She sighed and slumped onto the bed next to Glimmer in defeat. “And I have absolutely no idea what to wear.” 

“Oh yeah!” Glimmer bounced herself so hard that she stumbled off the bed, and then moved to stand in front of Adora. “Hmm, let me look through your stuff. All love, Adora, but your sense of style for formal events is lacking.” 

Adora looked at her reproachfully, but she agreed completely and was grateful for Glimmer’s help. They’d been best friends since high school, and the rhythm of getting ready for events together reminded her of the homecoming dances they used to go to. 

Adora remembered shifting uncomfortably in a tulle-lined gown back then, sipping lemonade near the tables while Glimmer danced atrociously. She doubted this banquet would have that same juvenile quality, but she was still just as unsure of herself.

Glimmer rummaged around behind her, digging through the pile of clothes on the bed, then clapped her hands excitedly at an apparent discovery. “Try this,” she urged, pushing a lump of fabric into Adora’s hand. “I have a _vision._ ”

Adora stood in front of the mirror and shrugged on the shirt, a cream-colored button-up blouse made of satin. It glinted in the light, shimmering slightly. The fabric was cool against her pale skin. She closed the front, noting the pearlized buttons, and stared at her reflection. The shirt hugged her toned shoulders comfortably without being too tight, and she couldn’t stop looking at the shimmering fabric. 

“It’s beautiful, Glimmer! Where did you find this? It's definitely not mine.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Glimmer with a wink. “I knew it would look perfect on you.” She shoved another lump of cloth into Adora’s hands. “Now put these pants on!” 

Soon Adora was standing fully dressed in front of her friend. The satin blouse was tucked loosely into high-rise trousers, belted at the waist. Glimmer stood in front of her, fastening a gold necklace around her neck. 

She stepped back, looking at Adora like a painter examining their masterpiece. With a slight frown, she reached and unbuttoned a couple buttons on the blouse, making Adora blush slightly. 

“Perfect!” Glimmer exclaimed. “Professional _and_ sexy. Maybe you’ll pick up a date at this thing! You’re screaming ‘Come get me, ladies’ right now.” Glimmer giggled. Adora rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered. 

In her mind, Catra’s image flashed, looking into her eyes with that mesmerizing stare. 

“Thank you for the help, Glimmer,” Adora said, smiling at her friend. “What would I do without you?” 

“Absolutely nothing!” Glimmer chirped, grinning proudly. “Come on, let’s go show Mara!” 

~ 

**Catra**

“Catra! Catraaaaaaa!” a voice shouted from across the bustling banquet hall. Catra turned to see Scorpia running at her at full tilt, looking harried despite her sleek evening gown. She backed up in surprise, nearly walking into an annoyed-looking caterer. 

“Catra,” Scorpia gasped, winded from her sprint. “I can’t... decide... on shoes.” She held up two pairs of nearly identical black wedges, and Catra bit back a chuckle. She’d never seen Scorpia so high strung before. 

“Um, I like the, uh, first pair?” Catra said, squinting at the shoes. There really was no difference between them to her, but the decision seemed to make Scorpia feel better. 

“You’re the best!” she sighed, throwing her arms around Catra’s thin frame in one of her signature bone-crushing hugs. The air was driven out of Catra’s lungs on impact, and she felt as if her ribs were screaming for mercy.

“Scorpia- my body-” Catra squeaked, and Scorpia let go of her with a sheepish grin. She hopped onto one leg, wrestling a heel onto one of her feet, and began talking rapid fire as Catra rubbed her ribs. 

“I think everything is pretty much ready to go. The caterers are nearly finished with the dinner preparations, which is good because they were twenty minutes late! Can you believe that! Ugh. The florist should be here any minute though. I’ve got the other TA’s from the department lined up to help welcome the guests and show them around the venue, but I think I need to run to the store for—”  
Catra held up a hand. She wasn’t sure if she had heard her right.

“I’m sorry Scorpia, did you say the _florist_ is arriving soon?” 

“Yeah, the florist girl from the shop on Wednesday. I called her yesterday and asked for her help setting up the tables and centerpieces, since our decorator bailed last minute, and I loved what she did with the centerpiece bouquets…” 

Scorpia’s voice faded away, and Catra’s stomach began an intricate and nauseating gymnastics routine. 

The florist girl. Adora. 

She hadn’t expected to see her again, at least not this soon. She felt sudden panic creep into her throat. She didn’t feel prepared. 

_What was there to be prepared for?_ she chided herself. _So some florist is coming by to help with the banquet. What does it matter that this particular florist has sparkling blue eyes and a laugh like melted chocolate? She’s just a florist. Nothing to worry about._

But she knew in her heart that it was different. There was something captivating and terrifying about Adora’s presence, and she wasn’t sure what to think or do. She felt frozen, caught like a deer in headlights. 

“Catra? Earth to Catra, are you in there?” Catra blinked, Scorpia’s puzzled expression taking up her vision. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” she said, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “It sounds good, Scorpia. I’m gonna, uh, go see if Lonnie needs some help. Call me if you need anything, okay?” 

She did not, in fact, go see Lonnie. 

Catra beelined to the bathroom instead, locking the door behind her. She was grateful for the solitude. Her head was spinning. She stripped off her dark blazer and leaned against the sink, staring at herself in the smudged mirror. 

_Adora._

She felt panic approaching like a thunderstorm, threatening to seize her like it had at the shop. 

“No,” she said aloud to her reflection. “There’s nothing to be worried about. You are fine.” 

Catra stepped back, adjusting the buttons of her dark-red dress shirt with slightly trembling fingers. She re-tucked the front, even though it was already tucked without a single crease, and then scrunched her curls lightly. 

“You are fine,” she repeated to herself. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Fine.” 

After a moment longer of psyching herself up, she turned on one heel and grabbed her blazer from where she had slung it over the door of the bathroom stall and slipped it back on, tugging at the lapels. At least she looked decent, even if her mind felt like she’d stuck a fork in an electrical socket. 

She didn’t understand why the thought of Adora sent her into such a wreck of anxiety. She hadn’t even met the girl before two days ago, she had no reason to react this way.  


Something tugged at the back of her mind, clamoring for her attention just out of her reach. 

_What_ was _it about her?_

With a sigh, she took one last look at her appearance, checking the tuck of her dress shirt one last time, and then pushed the door of the bathroom open. 

The door swung wide and hit something with a loud _thump._ There was a cry of surprise and the sound of objects clattering to the floor. 

It hadn’t hit a something- it had hit a _someone._

Catra cursed under her breath, rushing out of the bathroom. “Jesus, I’m really sorr-”

The words got stuck in her throat. 

Sprawled on the floor, surrounded by little paper name cards and blinking up at her with a wide-eyed expression, was Adora. 

Somehow, even after toppling to the ground, she still looked incredible. Her cream-colored blouse shimmered slightly, and Catra couldn’t help but notice the way her dark trousers hugged her slight hips like they’d been made for her. 

Catra was awestruck and forgot for a moment that she had smacked the girl in the face with a door just seconds ago.

She forced her eyes up to Adora’s face held out her hand awkwardly to help the girl up, hoping the blush she felt rising in her cheeks didn’t show in the dim lighting. 

Adora grabbed her outstretched hand and Catra pulled her up to standing. “Fuck, I’m really sorry,” Catra said, finally managing to choke out the words. 

She was acutely aware of Adora’s hand in hers. They were soft but strong, with light calluses on the fingertips. Catra realized how close they were to each other once Adora was standing- close enough to notice Adora’s faint perfume. 

_Rose, maybe?_

A moment too late, she noticed she’d been staring again. She blushed harder, mentally kicking herself, and knelt to the ground to pick up the name cards scattered across the floor to avoid Adora's gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, not looking up for fear of combustion. “For, uh, hitting you in the face with a door.” 

“It’s okay!” Adora said, dusting herself off. She bent down on the floor next to Catra and began gathering up the cards. 

_No, the scent wasn’t rose. Something softer, brighter. Something vaguely familiar._

She couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Catra, right?” asked Adora. 

She nodded, then cleared her throat.

“Yep, that’s me. I was with Scorpia when-”

“The centerpieces, I remember,” Adora finished. She looked over to Catra, meeting her eyes.

“It’s nice to see you again, Catra.” 

Adora smiled at her. It felt familiar and warm, like afternoon sunrays. She felt like she knew this smile, had known it all her life.

A familiar desperate panic began bubbling into her chest but this time she forced it down.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And what’s with these cards?” 

“Scorpia called the shop and told me that your decorator quit last minute and asked to hire me on for the job,” Adora said. “I didn’t have anything do, so I said yes! I just got here and was on my way to start setting up the tables with the centerpieces and seating assignment cards, when…” 

She looked at Catra, a wry smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Catra chuckled embarrassedly, running a hand through her hair. 

“Again, I’m so sorry. Hitting you with a door isn’t exactly a great welcome move.” 

Adora’s smirk split into a wide grin, then into full laughter. This girl seemed to always have a cheerful expression. Catra wasn’t sure how she kept it up. 

“No, really, it’s okay. I hit people with doors all the time.” Her eyes practically glowed with mirth. The pair stood, the scattered slips of paper back securely in their holder. 

“You can make it up to me by helping me put these placement cards down, though, if you’re not busy? There’s like a million.” 

Catra nodded her agreement and the two started down the hallway into the ballroom. She shoved her hands in her trouser pockets as they walked, hoping Adora hadn’t noticed the slight tremor in them. The calm she had coached herself into in the bathroom had all but evaporated. Now she felt like she was a shaken soda bottle, full of carbon dioxide bubbles rushing to explode. 

_You’re fine,_ she repeated to herself like a mantra. _You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine._

Helping Adora decorate kept her busy enough not to dwell on any one thought. They laid tablecloths, put out name cards, adjusted large bouquets, hung a welcome banner, and arranged event brochures. Adora chatted idly as they worked, and Catra mostly listened with the occasional comment. 

It was nice, Catra thought. Comfortable. They worked together well, even if the task was as simple as draping the edges of a linen tablecloth. 

Adora definitely had an eye for decoration. She knew exactly what amount to rotate the elaborate centerpieces that she herself had created, knew where the perfect center of the wall was to hang the banner, and had a sixth sense for color arrangement. It must be from her work at the flower shop. 

Catra, on the other hand, had about as much artistic talent as a frying pan.

Pretty soon they had finished, and the ballroom looked elegant and ready for the evening. Scorpia had hugged them both tightly and gushed about the decorations, before hurriedly running backstage to “go through the speech again! Practice makes perfect!” 

“I should probably go run through my lines as well,” said Catra. She sat with Adora at the edge of the stage, their legs hanging off the side. 

“Oh, you’re speaking tonight too?”

Catra nodded. “Yeah, I’m helping Scorpia with the introduction and closing. It’s her event though. I’m basically here for support. The Ann Perkins to her Leslie Knope, if you know what I mean.” 

Adora smirked. “Oh, I can totally see it.” She met Catra’s eyes, and they both laughed, but Catra averted her gaze quickly. She couldn’t hold Adora’s gaze without feeling like she was going to drown.

“Well, thank you for all your help tonight,” said Catra. She pushed herself off the ledge of the low stage, landing lightly on the carpeted floor. “I- we- really appreciate it.” 

“Break a leg out there,” said Adora, looking down at her. She caught her eyes again and this time, Catra didn’t look away. 

_How could someone’s eyes be so impossibly blue?_

“I’ll do my best,” Catra said finally, cutting the silence a beat too late. “See you around, Adora.” 

Adora lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers in a childish wave that Catra couldn’t help but find endearing. She turned on her boot heel and walked away quickly, turning the corner to head backstage. 

_Peonies,_ she decided. _Her perfume smelled like peonies._

The memory of the flower’s scent floated up from deep within her mind, from her family’s garden. It was so long ago, Catra was surprised the memory hadn’t faded away.  
But there it was. 

_Peonies,_ she thought. 

~

**Adora**

Adora stood on the curb of the parking lot, waiting for her Uber to arrive. The night was dark and crisp, the chill of approaching fall fresh on the wind. Professors and guests walked briskly to their cars, chatting with each other and saying their goodbyes.

The banquet had gone well. The food was excellent, and all of Scorpia’s jokes in her welcoming remarks had gotten lots of laughs.

Catra carried herself with the same quiet ease on stage as she did while they had been setting up together, detailing the convention’s event schedule without a wasted syllable. 

Adora smiled inwardly at the thought of Catra. She had seemed so on edge at first, which made sense because she _had_ whacked Adora onto her ass by accident. But as they had worked together, they settled into a comfortable and productive rhythm. 

She liked talking with her. Catra’s quips of commentary on her long-winded stories always managed to make her snort with laughter or roll her eyes. There was something magnetic about her that made Adora want to know more.

Footsteps crunched through the fallen leaves behind her, and she turned to see Catra approaching. She had her blazer slung over one shoulder, and her dark red blouse was almost black in the darkness of the evening. 

“Speak of the devil,” said Adora in greeting. “I was just thinking about you.” 

Catra chuckled softly. “Nothing bad, I hope.” She came to stand next to Adora, looking out at the busy parking lot. “I just wanted to say thank you, for the help tonight.” She laughed dryly. “And not suing me for damages via, uh, bathroom door.” 

Adora chuckled. “I had a good time and I was happy to help. Besides, I can always sue you later.” She winked at Catra, who gave her a quick smirk in return. Her smile was mischievous but restrained, like she was thinking of a joke that hadn’t quite found the perfect punchline. 

They stood quietly for a few minutes in a comfortable silence until Adora’s Uber rolled up to the curb. 

“Oh, that’s me,” she said, stepping off the sidewalk to open the car door. Catra followed, holding the door open so Adora could slip inside. 

Adora started to say goodbye, but Catra stopped her. 

“Before you go,” she started. She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a little white card. “For, you know, your future lawsuit.” 

She pressed the card into Adora's hand and stepped back, not pausing for Adora to say anything else before shutting the car door gently. Adora watched through the window for a minute as Catra stood on the curb, hands in pockets, as the car rolled away down the street. She couldn't bring herself to look away.

Once the university was out of sight, she turned the card Catra had given her over in her hands. It was a business card, made of heavy white cardstock with minimal silver embossing. 

_C. Weaver_  
_Bright Moon University_  
_English Department_

At the very bottom of the card was a university email address and a phone number. Adora felt her pulse quicken at the sight of that last line printed so neatly on the card's edge.

Heart pounding, Adora pulled her phone out of her back pocket and typed the number into her phone. 

**To: Unknown Number**

**Adora (10:15 PM):** Goodnight, Catra 😊 

A few minutes of silence went by, and Adora looked out the window at the passing neighborhoods. 

Then: 

**Unknown Number (10:22 PM):** goodnight, adora 

Adora couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face. She leaned back into the leather backseat, the screen illuminating her features. 

The night rolled by quietly out the window, charged with possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes they both get suits. what can i say, women in suits are *chefs kiss* 
> 
> peonies: romance, good fortune, and bashfulness (aw, blushy catra)
> 
> i'm expecting the next chapter to be out by next week, Nov 29-Dec. 1st, but that may change or get pushed back because of my university work and deadlines. i hope you enjoyed this pretty much all fluff chapter! the next one will be a bit heavier/angstier. sorry not sorry. 
> 
> let me know what you think in the comments! i adore hearing from you. thank you for reading, and much love! <3
> 
> connect with me @edentification on instagram or @cloudydaydyke on tumblr and twitter if you wanna chat some more!


	3. brief update and chapter 3 teaser! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! 
> 
> i'm sorry for not posting in the past 2 weeks. i know i said i'd put something up dec. 1st, but i am in the throes of my last two weeks at university, which is all finals and papers, and it has been so hectic. but starting THIS FRIDAY my fall semester is over for the winter!! so by then i will have a full chapter update for you. i am aiming to have a chapter up by this NEXT sunday, december 13th.
> 
> i've got a couple pages written but i intend to make it a good sized update to make up for the loss of time! HOWEVER. i do have enough written to share a liiiiittle bit with you now. 
> 
> so, while we wait.... here is 250 words worth of a sneak peek into the next chapter. i hope you enjoy it <3

**Catra**

It was 3:45 AM, and Catra couldn’t sleep. Again. 

Soft white moonlight streamed in through the cracks in her window shades, projecting shimmering shapes onto her bare bedroom walls. 

She laid on her back, her heartbeat pounding in her ears like unrelenting bass. 

It had been 48 hours since she’d actually gotten any rest, and yet despite her best efforts-- melatonin, meditation, counting backwards, the sounds of the ocean-- she couldn’t stop her brain from churning like the very waves whose sound were meant to lull her into unconsciousness.

Staring at the ceiling, all she could think of was butterscotch and bluebells. White silk, gold hair, soft hands. 

_Adora._

Her phone lay silent on her bedstand, and she didn’t dare pick it up. Its accusing silence filled the air.

She wasn’t sure why she’d given Adora her business card. The banquet was two days ago, and they hadn’t said anything to each other since. 

What did she expect? It wasn’t as if they’d known each other very long. Not long enough to be the kind of people that texted each other. 

But. 

There was something that pulled Catra into Adora’s orbit. It felt as out of control as the gravitational pull on the Moon, spinning her in a seemingly endless circle around and around Adora’s grounding force. She couldn’t resist whatever dark force drew her in, closer and closer. 

All she knew is, it was going to end in a collision. The kind that could change lives, or collapse worlds. 

~


	4. hyacinths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for waiting for this chapter! 
> 
> a big ol' trigger warning for the following: abuse mention, abusive family mention, scar mention, suicidal mention (it's very glancing and brief, no one is actually in any danger), panic attacks. this is all in the first half of Catra's first section this chapter.

**CATRA**

It was 3:45 AM, and Catra couldn’t sleep. Again.

Soft white moonlight streamed in through the cracks in her window shades, projecting shimmering shapes onto her bare bedroom walls.

She laid on her back, her heartbeat pounding in her ears like unrelenting bass.

It had been 48 hours since she’d actually gotten any rest, and yet despite her best efforts-- melatonin, meditation, counting backwards, the sounds of the ocean-- she couldn’t stop her brain from churning like the very waves whose sound were meant to lull her into unconsciousness.

Staring at the ceiling, all she could think of was butterscotch and bluebells. White silk, gold hair, soft hands.

_Adora._

Her phone lay silent on her bedstand, and she didn’t dare pick it up. Its accusing silence filled the air.

She wasn’t sure why she’d given Adora her business card. The banquet was three days ago, and they hadn’t said anything to each other since.

What did she expect? It wasn’t as if they’d known each other very long. Not long enough to be the kind of people that texted each other.

But.

There was something that pulled Catra into Adora’s orbit. It felt as out of control as the gravitational pull on the Moon, spinning her in a seemingly endless circle around and around Adora’s grounding force. She couldn’t resist whatever dark force drew her in, closer and closer.

All she knew is, it was going to end in a collision. The kind that could change lives, or collapse worlds.

Catra squeezed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands to block out any light from the moon. It had felt gentle at first, but now the shards of light that peeked through were sharp and stinging. 

Instead of the darkness she craved when she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus’s face. His dark skin, strong jaw, sparkling smile seemed etched into her eyelids. She could almost feel his buzzed scalp under her hands, the broadness of his shoulders. He radiated strength, kindness, humor. 

She had once found comfort in his large frame and deep, quiet laugh. She once had been up this late, butterflies swarming in her stomach as his messages flooded into her phone in flirtatious clouds of disconnected text. 

She could remember the romance in their exchanges, the back and forth, the _chase_. It had always been her favorite part of dating: feeling the unattainability of a new person become a flitting infatuation, and then a connection, and then eventually—

A relationship. 

That’s where things always went wrong, didn’t they? 

When things got serious. Tangible. 

When it stopped being disembodied flirtation and became something real and solid. 

Catra dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, making Marcus’s face disappear in a shower of sparks dancing in her vision. It was too much to think about.

She glanced over at the clock. It felt like she’d been awake for hours. At this point, it had actually been days.

 _Fuck it,_ she thought. She may as well stay awake. Rest wasn’t coming any time soon. 

She rolled onto her side, swinging herself out of bed, and padded into the kitchen. The fluorescent lights flickered on, buzzing low like a squad of angry mosquitos. 

She filled a kettle numbly and set it on the stove to come to boil. A _cafecito_ never hurt, even if it was 4 in the morning now. 

The smell of ground coffee beans floated from the open ceramic jar on her counter, flooding her with memories. Her abuela’s kitchen, with its warm orange tile and near jungle of potted-plant greenery spilling from every corner. She recalled how her abuela danced, swaying in the early hours of the morning that glowed gold through thick glass windowpanes. 

Catra remembered being whisked off the counter into her arms, a giggling 5-year-old, dancing together across the tile with the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the early hour. She sneaked sips out of her abuela’s coffee mug, reveling in the forbidden sweetness and warm rush of the coffee down her throat till she was caught. Her abuela chided her with a smile twinkling in her eyes, and then poured Catra a thimble’s amount of coffee of her own.

It felt forbidden and so adult then, sitting and drinking her tiny cup of coffee. Even now, pouring her subpar Dunkin Donuts blend into a worn mug, the memory brought a faint smile to her lips. Her coffee wasn’t enchanted with nostalgia like her abuela’s had been, but it would serve its purpose. 

She sighed, raising the mug to her lips. The sky was beginning to lighten at its edges now. The sun was clawing its way up the horizon, staggering from its bed to take its bleary-eyed place at the top of the world. 

Catra felt just as bleary. In one long, harsh, swallow, she drained the cup and tossed it into her sink unceremoniously. Her throat burned with the coffee’s acidity. The caffeine now coursing through her veins wasn’t doing much to wake her tired body from its sleepless stupor. 

Trying futilely to rub the exhaustion from her eyes, she walked into her bathroom, turning the shower on so hot the room immediately filled with steam. Maybe a shower would help to rid her body of its exhausted funk.

Catra undressed, strewing her clothes across the bathroom floor.

She turned to the mirror, staring at her naked reflection. She didn’t do that much. Her skin was smooth, except for barely noticeable highways of scars crisscrossing her back.

Her hand reached up instinctively, touching her throat.

The lines there, unlike the ones on her back, had faded long ago, but she still felt the suffocating grip of hands pinning her, forcing streams of tears out of her eyes as she desperately gasped for air. 

Her naked reflection seemed ghostly, barely real in the steamy bathroom mirror. She felt small and fragile, standing with her hand to her throat. Her cheeks flushed with color. 

She stepped into the shower quickly, feeling the hot water bearing down on her body. It was almost painfully warm, but she didn’t adjust it. Catra let the water pour down onto her, letting its stinging heat make her muscles loose. 

The heat was nearly overwhelming, the water drowning out all her other senses. It threatened to wash away her thoughts and her consciousness, flooding down the drain like the soap and the dirt off her skin. 

It would be so easy to stay there, her thoughts and memories diluting till there was nothing left but a clean, blank slate. 

In some ways, she almost welcomed the idea. Sometimes it felt like the memories of her past filled up every little bit of space left in her head, yelling and tumbling over each other, screaming for her attention and leaving her no space of her own. 

She tilted her head back into the stream of shower water half-aware, caught in the numbing hold of her thoughts.

The faucet bathed her in steaming water, washing over her head and face. It began to trickle down her nose and into her throat, but quickly moved from a trickle to a flood. 

Soon, it felt like water was filling her lungs, biting her skin, starting to erase her from the inside out with dizzying warmth. 

A moment too late, the fog on Catra’s mind lifted, swiftly replaced with vivid panic. 

She snapped her head forward so fast it made her head spin, coughing and gasping.

Catra spit water everywhere, purging it from her nose and mouth in ragged spluttering coughs. Her chest was heaving, lungs gasping for air. She staggered, reaching out to the wall for support but instead slipped hard onto the shower’s tiled floor, collapsing into a fetal curl. 

Catra’s mind felt wild with the wild adrenaline of her panic that had not yet faded. She blinked furiously, tears and shower water streaming down her face. Her chest felt raw and painful. She hugged her knees in close to her body, the water beating down dully onto her scored back. 

Her breaths came in wheezy gasps, and she tried to focus her mind on her breathing like her therapist had suggested. 

_Long in breath, long out breath. In for three, out for three. In for three, out for three_. 

The technique didn’t do much to quell the all-too familiar anxiety bubbling in her stomach, but her breathing returned to normal. She loosened her grip on her legs, feeling the half-moon indents her fingernails had left in her wet skin. 

Catra reached up and turned off the faucet. The air around her turned cold sharply, raising goosebumps across her skin. 

Slumped on the shower tiles, she let her head fall onto her knees, and her body shook with quiet sobs. 

~ 

In the Bright Moon University English department office, there were a few things you could always count on.

1) There was always coffee in the dingy Mr. Coffee coffeemaker, and it was always terrible.

2) At least three students would be leaning over the central round table, debating the thematic elements of Lance’s assigned reading chapters for the week. 

3) Catra would be there at her desk by the window, blasting music in her headphones and typing out assignments and essay commentary on her laptop. 

Today was no different. Students sat clustered around the table, discussing a short story by Ursula K. LeGuin in hushed tones. (LeGuin was a personal favorite author of Catra’s.) From within the cocoon of her oversized hoodie that she had pulled over top of her work blazer, Catra busily made edits to student papers, leaving comments and sending emails at her small desk.

Once she got focused, it was hard to break that concentration. In a subject that came as naturally to her as literature did, it was easy to get lost in the rhythm of the work. She enjoyed working for Lance and BMU, all things considered. It wasn’t hard and left plenty of time for her own grad school assignments which were their own headache. 

Catra was so concentrated on revising the essay in front of her that it took her a full minute to notice someone else had entered the room and was standing in front of desk. It was only when they cleared their throat and tapped the back of her laptop that she noticed the new presence. 

She started in surprise, pulling her headphones out. “Hey, what the—oh, hi!” 

“Hey, Catra.” said Marcus. 

Marcus was tall enough to block out the glare of the office’s ceiling lights when he stood over her desk like this. He smiled down at her, his expression warm and genuine. She couldn’t help but smile back, but she felt her stomach drop. 

“Hi, Marcus,” she said, shutting her laptop as she stood. He opened his arms for a hug, and she stepped into it gratefully.

His embrace was comforting despite the unease and guilt swirling in the back of her mind. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head as they hugged. “You’ve been so busy these past few weeks.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Catra said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

He pulled away slightly to look down at her. She met his eyes but couldn’t hold it, shifting her gaze to the floor instead. 

“Catra, what’s wrong?” he said gently. He was still looking at her, looking at her with his eyes that reminded her of a puppy. “Did something happen?” 

“No,” she said quickly, but then took a sharp breath. “Just… I haven’t been sleeping well. And I was thinking about my- my mom this morning.” The words caught in her throat. 

Marcus nodded, but didn’t say anything.

She was grateful for that. She couldn't stand the sentiments of understanding from people who didn't really get it. Marcus never pretended to understand her past in the way she understood it, but he was always good at showing her his signature quiet support, which she appreciated more than any hollow words. 

He pulled her in for one last quick hug, then stepped back and smiled. 

“I don’t want to keep you long; I know you’ve got work to do. But,” he added, rustling around in a paper bag Catra hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying, “I brought you something.” He pulled a glassine-wrapped package out of the bag.

“It’s a breakfast bun, from that bakery Hyacinth you like so much. I figured I’d stop by and pick one up for you and drop it off before I head to my class. Oh, and I got you a coffee, too.” He handed the bun and the coffee to her.

Catra could smell the pastry’s caramel topping through the paper. The familiar scent of the pastry and the coffee made her stomach grumble in anticipation.

These breakfast buns were her favorite treat, but Hyacinth Bakery wasn’t anywhere near the university. It was on the complete opposite side of the city, actually—completely out of his way on his way to BMU, where Marcus also took grad classes. 

_He must have left the house an hour early for this, just to make me feel better,_ Catra thought. Her heart swelled with gratitude and affection for him. 

Just as quickly, that gratitude twisted into guilt. 

“Thank you, Marcus. You’re so sweet.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek gingerly. “You should probably head out, I know your class starts in a couple minutes.” 

He nodded. “Have a good day, baby. I love you!” 

She smiled at him, even as turmoil flooded her senses. “You too. Now go, you’re gonna be late!” 

He cracked a cheeky smile and laughed, waving as he jogged backward out of the office and down the hall. She waved back till he was out of sight, then sat down heavily at her small desk.

She took a sip of her coffee.

It was perfect, just the way she liked it. Much better than the one she’d made for herself far too early that morning. He always got her coffee right.

As she ate her breakfast, Catra was lost in thought. 

Marcus, on paper, was perfect. 

He knew her so well. He was kind, thoughtful, charming. He brought her her favorite things, made her laugh, treated her unbelievably well. He respected her boundaries and knew what to say to bring a smile to her lips. 

So why did she feel so guilty when he was around? 

Why did their relationship feel so _wrong_ , like it was three sizes too small?

What was wrong with her? 

~

**Adora**

Adora couldn’t focus. 

She stared at her GED practice workbook. It wasn’t making any sense anymore. The words were practically swimming on the page in front of her.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” she groaned, dramatically flopping over her workbook at the breakfast table. “This is so stupid.” 

“No, it’s not, and you know it,” said a light voice. “Get up, lazy bones.”

Adora lifted her head, a grin already on her lips. She looked down the hallway to see her mother rolling toward her, wheelchair gliding smoothly across the hardwood floor. 

“Mom! You’re home early!” She jumped up from her chair, crossing the kitchen in two long steps to hug her mother’s thin form. She squeezed her tight, and her mom hugged her back. 

Her grandmother walked in behind them. “They let us leave PT early today! Mara’s making such good progress.” 

Her mother beamed up at her. “They say I’ll be out of this stupid thing in a few more months at this rate, not a few years like they originally thought. It’s a real relief.” 

It was all Adora could do to not grab her mother and wrap her in a bear hug again. “Mom, that’s- that’s _fantastic!_ I’m so happy!” She thought her face would split in two from smiling. She sat down at the table again, resting her chin on her fist. 

“It is fantastic,” Mara agreed. “Hopefully that means I can come back to the shop sooner than we thought, so you can focus on your GED some more.”

Adora shook her head, frowning. “Don’t push yourself. The GED will always be there, I’m not worried about it. I’ll get to it. You’re more important, the shop is more important—way more important than some dumb degree.” 

Mara furrowed her brow.

“Adora, nothing is more important than finishing your education. You made such a big sacrifice, dropping out of school—”

“Mom, please.” Adora rolled her but her expression was bittersweet. “It wasn’t a sacrifice. You’re more important to me than anything.” 

Her mother rolled closer and grabbed Adora’s hands. “Sweetheart. You need to take care of yourself, too. And even if you don’t want to re-enroll, you should at least get some kind of degree. You worked so hard for the last one.”

Adora scoffed. “Academia is such a scam. So are degrees.” 

“They sure are,” her mother agreed. She laughed, and Adora couldn’t help but laugh too. Her mother’s laughter was infectious. It transformed a room, made it glow.

“Do you want lunch, Adora?” her grandmother called from the other side of the kitchen. “I’m gonna make sandwiches!” 

“Oh, no it’s okay Gran,” Adora called back. “I’m meeting Glimmer and Bow for lunch this afternoon.” 

Adora had Mondays off from the shop, and her and her friends Glimmer and Bow always went out for lunch on Mondays. It’d been their tradition since high school. 

After Adora’s basketball practices and Glimmer’s cheer practices, they’d go to the tiny diner across from their school and load up on their favorite breakfast foods. After Glimmer and Bow started dating freshman year, Bow came along too. They’d been fast friends since, over eight years. 

“How could I have forgotten!” laughed her grandmother. “Tell that Bow hello for me. He’s such a nice young man.” 

“Glimmer’s going to be jealous, Gran,” teased Adora. She winked at Mara, who held a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. 

“Oh, you hush with that tired old joke!” Gran reached over the counter and swatted at Adora with a spatula, which made Adora jump back, giggling. 

“Adora,” her mother said suddenly, cutting through her and her grandmother's giggles. “Have you talked to that girl you mentioned yet?” 

Adora’s phone suddenly felt hot in her pocket. She turned around quickly to face her mother, feeling a flush creep up her cheeks.

“Catra? Uh, no, she hasn’t texted since the banquet.” She pulled out her phone, swiping to check her notifications. Nothing. 

She fought back the disappointment rising in her chest.

She’d thought about texting her first, but it felt wrong somehow. It made her nervous in a way she didn’t expect, didn't know how to handle. 

“Maybe you could invite her to lunch,” her mom suggested. Her tone was neutral, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that was unmistakable. Adora’s face flushed hotter. 

“ _Mom,_ I _can’t!_ We’re just friends, if even that. And besides, I-I don’t even know if she’s—” Adora stammered, shaking her head. “I don’t even know her like that, Mom.” 

“But do you want to?” Mara challenged, raising an eyebrow.

The question hung in the air. 

Adora didn’t know how to answer.

“Come on, Adora,” Gran chimed in. “New friends can’t hurt, right?” 

Adora swallowed and looked to her mother, who winked encouragingly. 

She felt a small smile pull at the corners of her mouth and opened her phone. 

~

**Catra**

_Brring!_

Catra’s phone chirped from within her hoodie pocket, startling her out of her work focus. She took the phone out. 

_New message from: FLOWER GIRL_

Catra shut off the phone before even reading the message. 

Her heart was pounding, beating inside her chest like a snare. 

She shut her eyes tightly and took in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she clicked the phone’s screen back on.

_New message from: FLOWER GIRL_

**FLOWER GIRL (12:30 PM):** Hey, Catra! Me and some friends are getting lunch this afternoon. Wanna come? I can txt you the address :-)

Catra stared at the message for a long minute. 

Lunch? With Adora, and her friends? 

That sounded terrifying. 

Catra typed out her answer slowly, steeling herself so she wouldn’t lose her nerve. 

**Catra (12:32 PM):** sure. what time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hyacinths: the flower of regret
> 
> thank you all for waiting for this chapter! now that i'm done with uni for the semester (yaaaaaaay) i am aiming to put out a new chapter every weekend! 
> 
> let me know your thoughts in the comments, or connect with me @edentification on instagram or @cloudydaydyke on tumblr and twitter if you wanna chat some more! 
> 
> much love always, and stay safe!


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